Just A Teenage Dirtbag
by Thinkette
Summary: "Minerva 'straight A gaining, nail claw wielding, vicious smirk like a viper' Orlando was more likely to make out with some of the pre-chewed gum under the benches than admit she was carrying a torch the size of Mount Vesuvius for Sting." A story in which everyone knows, nothing goes right, and Rogue is ready to throw both of them in the kiddie pool. AKA: The cliche high school AU.


Sting rolled his eyes as he popped another soggy tater tot in his mouth, leaning back a bit further from the plastic cafeteria table so he could see over Rogue's head. The brunette, in turn, sighed in exasperation before pressing his cheek on his fist.

"She'll never notice that, you know," Rogue said in a bored tone, absentmindedly stirring his ketchup with the extra straw they included in the school lunch.

"Sure she will. No one can resist me for that long," he replied, putting on his most flirtatious face, no doubt because the woman of his affections had glanced over his way.

"It's been two years."

"She's bound to crack eventually!"

Rogue groaned. He really just wished that Sting would hoist up his baggy jeans over his dick and fucking talk to the girl already. Lecherous winks and a strut like he had a broken ankle were clearly not working to gain the adoration of the resident Ice Queen of their miserable private school. Minerva "straight A gaining, nail claw wielding, vicious smirk like a viper" Orlando was more likely to make out with some of the pre-chewed gum under the benches than admit she was carrying a torch the size of Mount Vesuvius for the boneheaded blonde sitting opposite him. So, in Rogue's humble opinion, Sting could either a: get off his ass and chase her like she wants, thus giving in and automatically relinquishing his reputation as a dowsing rod for women or b: hold onto his arrogant stubbornness and try to convince THAT to cuddle with him at night.

Either way, he loses, but at least if he goes with the former, he'd have someone to hang out with other than his best friend since kindergarten.

For a change.

Though, Rogue doubts he's allowed to be so passive aggressive to him, considering the moron doesn't even _know_ Minerva's been harboring a semi-secret, often transparent attraction to him. Idiots, the lot of them. Let them be together, Rogue thinks, and at least then he'd have more time to spend with Yukino after they drop off their two bags of responsibility in a kiddie pool, no doubt going to flick each other on the ear and stick half melted ice cubes down one another's shirts.

God, it's almost as bad as watching some embarrassing mating ritual on Animal Planet.

He was almost tempted to give into his girlfriend's pleas of matchmaking, simply so he'd be rid of the misery of Sting's desperation to worm his way in both Minerva's heart, and also her panties.

Though, when the dark haired man looked back at his friend (and he WAS his friend, despite the obvious bluntness of their relationship), he was almost startled to see the complete opposite of the cocky, overly puffed up bird of a man he was used to. Sting looked almost wistful, somewhat crestfallen, and longing as he stared off to the lunch line before he dropped his eyes down to his tray, sighing.

"Hey, Rogue. Do you really….think she'll never notice me?" he asked, sheepishly, reaching up and tugging at the collar of his school issued uniform- the buttons undone and tie folded in his back pocket. Rogue blinked a few times before he sat up a bit straighter.

"Sting-" the man began, watching as the blonde seemed to chew on the inside of his cheek, "I think you're a moron."

"Oi!" he called out, somewhat offended, watching as his friend stood up with a bored expression.

"If you haven't noticed it by now, you're dumber than Natsu," he finished, standing up and slinging his backpack over one shoulder, just as a certain white haired beauty was making her way over to him.

"Oh, fuck off," Sting said, annoyance tinting the words, "as if you didn't mope in the boy's bathroom for weeks when Yukino transferred."

Said girl released a sweet sounding giggle as she stepped into the conversation. "Thinking about Min?" she asked, using the nickname somewhat out of habit, but also to push Sting into talking about it further. The man would never admit the adoration he harbored for three little letters, but he was just itching for the chance to call Minerva Orlando "Min" as proof of familiarity.

He didn't think he was quite there yet, though. Instead, he simply slumped and nodded, relaxing at the mere presence of the woman. Yukino just had this way with people that disarmed them, though he'd personally seen her slug the shit out of a moron for tugging at her blouse. She was quiet, but she packed a punch, and it was just that kind of combination that made her so perfectly likable.

Even to the woman made of nitrogen.

Yukino, completely ignoring her waiting boyfriend, plopped down in front of Sting and grasped his hand, smiling. "Don't be so down, sweetie."

"But nothing is working, 'Kino!" he wailed, almost flailing about in frustration and instantly thankful that she hadn't allowed him to do so, as it saved him from looking like a fool.

"Oh, Sting," she said, soothingly. "You should just talk to her!"

"I rather like my internal organs where they are, thanks," he replied sourly, scowling when Rogue let loose a snort, finally giving up his Western Movie stance and sitting down as well.

"I'll personally rearrange them if you don't shut up and ask her out," Rogue muttered.

"I can take you!"

"And not Minerva?"

"She'd grind me to cigarette ash and then light me on fire again."

"It's sweet you think so highly of her!" Yukino interjected, seeming pleased.

"Once you hear a woman's hogtied a boy in the locker room for looking above her knee in gym class and left him there for a day, you don't mess with her."

"Scared you'll be next?" Rogue asked sarcastically. "Because you've been downright saintly, what with not looking at all, right?"

"I've been trying!"

"How's it working out for you?"

"Horribly, but I tried."

Rogue rolled his eyes and slipped a hand in his pocket to feel for the pack of smokes he kept when his friend was being particularly annoying. Yukino shot him an angry glare as she slapped her free hand down on his thigh, right where the pocket was. It effectively got his attention, and likely crushed his hand, forcing him to simply lean back and grumble.

The woman turned her gaze back to the blonde and her face visibly softened. "Sting, sweetheart. If she hasn't murdered you yet for all the trouble you've caused, what makes you think she'll do so now?"

He just shook his head before crossing his arms. "Cause she's a snake. She'll make you feel safe as you spout cheesy innuendoes, but the second you step past that line, she'll bite."

"As if you'd mind," Rogue added, unhelpfully. Sting fixed him with a half lidded look that tried to translate how humorless he found the situation, but it only proved to amuse.

"Don't you have some spit to swap?"

"Don't you wish _you_ did?"

Yukino rolled her eyes as she stood up. "Just talk to her, Sting." And with that, she took a vice grip on her boyfriend's wrist, the one attached to the hand still palming cigarettes in his pocket, and yanked him off out of the room to God knows where, leaving Sting alone.

"Wow," he heard behind him, "Your lack of friends is almost equal to your lack of sex appeal."

He sucked in a breath at the sound, feeling his lungs squeeze up in his torso. When he turned his head, forcing a bored look on his face, he took in the tapered eyes and glossy hair of none other than the star of his rom-com fantasies for over a year. Damn straight he's been cruisin' for a bruisin', and plenty has gotten bruised from that fact alone.

"Didn't you hear? They have to take that STD test the health department is offering."

"Oh, you mean the one you take bi-monthly?" she shot back.

Sting smirked. "What can I say? The ladies love me."

"Hardly," she replied, narrowing her eyes when his own glinted.

"Isn't that the point?"

"Ugh!" she spat, the sound wadding at the back of her throat as she dropped her lunch tray down in front of him, sitting down daintily. "You really CAN'T spell disgusting without Sting. Send thanks to your parents for the apt moniker."

"You dig me and you know it."

"I'll dig you a damn grave if you aren't careful," she snarled, watching as he looked over her face, eyes darting to see where the poison was really coming from.

She hoped he could find it somewhere, because she was really running out of it and fast when it came to the blond. She quickly picked up her fork, stabbing at the quickly cooling, poor excuse for a meal, just to have something to do.

So, he was a bonehead. So, he was the least subtle person when it came to admiring her calves of steel when she played volleyball. So, he once set his shirt on fire in Chemistry class trying to flirt with her.

He was Sting. She'd known him for over two years. He was the first person to cheer for her when she spiked Loose-y Heartfilia straight to the temple during a match, landing the girl in the infirmary for just under two weeks. He didn't alienate her when The Demon Mirajane and Erza heart of stone Scarlet made it their personal mission to lob the damn ball at her every single time, leaving a few impressive welts and bruises.

He was, damn it all, pretty darn cute, and she honestly wouldn't mind making out with him once. Or twice.

Oh, who was she kidding? She'd slap a saddle on him in a heartbeat if it meant she got to ride. But no one knew that, except maybe Yuki, and her constant shadow.

Certainly not her father, who was too busy asking why she didn't take the extra credit in Advanced Placement Calculus to bump her to 106% instead of the, apparently, unsatisfactory 103% she was sporting. He would murder her if he found out she'd swap spit with a slacker.

Besides which, he was only interested in her to see if she wore a garter belt or not. She'd heard enough in the girl's locker rooms to know she was far from the only lady he had set those baby blues on. So, she rolled her eyes and leaned back slightly in the uncomfortable, bench style seat, barely catching Sting's softening expression at her.

She wondered if he found the toxic backing to her threat. Probably not. She was starting to care less and less about whether he could tell or not. Most of her didn't even know if she'd still be at Saber next year. She had gotten an offer from Tartar University a few months after she went on a limb and requested an early admission. With her grades, all she would have to do is snatch up a GED and be on her way, a good year early.

Anything to get away.

But she had taken the paper and folded it, meticulously, into a little star, waiting to decide fully. She really didn't know what was keeping her from a hearty "YES!" and asking Yuki to help her pack her bags and run to the place, despite the shady accusations.

Hell, nowhere was perfect.

She sighed, a subtle thing through the nose before looking back up from poking at her food. Sting, with his eyebrow scar from a brawl as a kid, with his spiked up hair and his almost permanent smirk was looking at her with the plainest, most unguarded fondness she had ever seen. It lasted for only a second before it morphed, not even bothering to pass by embarrassed, only settling on simple nonchalance.

But it was there.

She wondered if she was going to miss anything more than that. And she thought about why that instant, the glimpse, both made up her mind and complicated things completely.

All she knew was she wasn't going to say goodbye. She didn't think she could stand it.

* * *

**I don't think my love of Stinerva is ever going to diminish. Like, ever. EVER. In other news, GAJEEL AND LEVY HAD MOUTH TO MOUTH GUYS! AND SHE WAS HIS LIGHT! CHIAROSCURO SUDDENLY MAKES 10009728356x MORE SENSE, EH!?**

**Sorry about being a little shit and never updating. I will finish that fic if it fucking MURDERS me. I promise. I'm about halfway through the next chapter, and constantly deleting and redoing and undoing and all that shit. Fuck, man. I think I'll just post up a chapter called "Bits and Bobs" with all the deleted scenes I have piled about (about 10 pages on Word now) to tide it over. I'm horrible. It's just impossible to write it when it's been so long. **

**I'm garbage. I'm sorry.**


End file.
